


Set me free

by 4_liberty_of_love



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Cosette And Enjolras Are Siblings, Depression, Enjolras father, Enjolras is fantine's son, Enjolras-centric, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4_liberty_of_love/pseuds/4_liberty_of_love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian Enjolras life takes a turn for worse once his mother abandons him. For a long time he thinks his father feels nothing but hatred for him, and he feels he deserves that, but what would happen once his father pushes thing past the point of return.How bad can things get before he breaks?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok English is not my first language so bear with me. I tried my best.criticism would be gracefully accepted.

Julian Enjolras' early childhood was a classic case of a rich kid's . He lived in a luxurious apartment with his parents, he would change a nanny every few months, and as for the best part of it, he would spend his summer in the country house his father had bought when he was born. It was not a happy childhood but a grey one. His father vaguely appeared in his childhood memories, maybe because he was all the time working or maybe it was his mind's way of clearing the best part of his past from the worst part of his future. On the other hand his childhood memories were overwhelmingly filled with the image of a beautiful young woman,with heavy blond hair and clear blue eyes, his mother. He usually mused on how much he remembered her considering how long it had been since he last saw her. He could remember exactly how she looked,curly blond hair,blue eyes, pale skin...maybe that was Because all he needed to do in order to remember her face was to look in a mirror. But it was not just that, he could remember the way she held a poetry book in her hands while sitting on the porch in their country house, swinging her legs slowly in rhythm with the hot breeze while a little frown played upon her brow. He could could remember her blond curls flying in the air once they took a walk outside their farm through the wild meadows . He could remember the way she pushed her eyelids together once she was experiencing one of her headaches and sighed... There was one thing he couldn't remember though, he had no memory of her laughter. No matter how much he probed deep into his mind, he couldn't even imagine the sound of her laughter. Sometimes all he could remember of her voice was a silence filled with the sound of wind blowing through the oak trees as they sat on the porch,facing each other,eating or reading, but not speaking. His mother didn't talk much. She spent most of her days in bed claiming to have headaches. Later when he thought of her he recognised his mothers habits to be that of an alcoholic. He didn't resent her though. Not for all the ignorance, not for the way she snapped at him while he was playing a little too loudly, not for the way she turned her face away whenever his father became a little too severe in his punishing methods, he didn't resent her for leaving him behind either. She was a beautiful ghost in the back of his mind, with her long hair and delicate hands. A light spot in a pile of dark memories. And he cherished her. He knew he didn't resemble her just in his looks. He loved history and literature,something his father never failed to mention as a bad gene he had received from his mother's side. His mother was the one who taught him to enjoy reading and thinking and he cherished these habits and feature as some sort of souvenir from the mother he had long missed. They lived like that. A quiet unhappy life in the suburb, and an even quieter unhappy life in their country house. He was a nearly normal kid back then. He tried so hard to catch the attention of his parent. Especially the father who was very loud in his disapproval and very quiet in approval. He studied hard, did sports, tried to excel in what his father called real science ,which was practically anything outside the circle of humanities, and stayed quiet and obedient as his parents liked him to be.being quiet was not hard(another thing he had in common with his mother) but being obedient was not always easy. He had what his teachers called good naturally a tendency to lead. He liked to think that he couldn't help it. He attracted attention ever since he set foot in school, with his long curly blond hair which were usually all over the place, unbraided, big blue eyes and full pink lips with a soft pout on them .he tended to look "girly" as the bullies liked to call him. It didn't bother him that he looked like a girl(he was never that close-minded) but it bothered him that the bullies took it as a sign of weakness. The fact that he felt like he had to let his voice be heard on any occasion in which he felt it needed to be heard didn't help much in keeping him out of headlights either. He was a beautiful, smart, rich kid in a public school. People usually either mocked him or rolled their eyes whenever he said they needed to do something about what was wrong in their school. They would think of him as a bored, privileged boy who felt satisfied to be the saviour of the world. Little did they know. Things in his life took a turn for worse on a cold day near the christmas . He was playing in his room,feeling especially light headed for the merry atmosphere which had took over the city. His parents had gone out on a date leaving him behind with his nanny. He was five. Suddenly the front door burst open and he caught a sight of blond hair floating past by as his mother ran in across the hallway and went straight to her room. His nanny who was equally shocked found his gaze before giving him a smile and a light squeeze to shoulder as she got up to go and check on his mother. He vaguely heard voices from his parents bedroom talking before the door burst open again and his mother was walking out with a large bag in one hand . As she stumbled for the door she was hastily wiping her face with the back of her other hand which was holding on the car keys. Enjolras who was watching her clinging the wooden fence which separated the main area from the bedrooms suddenly felt a rush of fear. He knew something was about to happen and he knew in wasn't good. He called for his mother who froze upon hearing his voice in the doorway, like she had suddenly remembered she had left something behind. She turned around slowly looking at her young son before dropping her luggage to the floor and walking over to him. Then she slowly sat on the ground not bothering to get to the other side of the fences. She smiled and reached her hand through the fence to stroke Enjolras cheek, "Julian,Mommy's going to pay granny a visit and she will be back soon. Be a good boy and listen to your father ok?" "Would you take me with you?" His mother looked at him, her eyes frozen on his face before answering "No baby you have to remain here. You can't leave daddy alone on christmas can you?" Enjolras had only stared back. He could sense that something was not right. His mother gave him a last smile teary before walking bach to the door. Before leaving however she turned around once more and stared at Enjolras for a few seconds before saying "I'm sorry Julian... I have to." And she walked out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Things changed after his mother left. Father came home that night very drunk and extremely angry. When he heard about his wife's departure he was not surprised but shouted on the poor nanny for not trying harder to stop her before firing the poor girl. By that time Enjolras was seating beside his bed weeping. Not daring to be too loud. He hated it when he was to face his father alone. He loved his father but he also knew the man had a temper. And the he tended to be softer on Enjolras once his wife was around. He jumped As his door burst open, revealing a very angry father. Upon seeing Enjolras with his tear stained face on the floor he snickered drunkenly, "You happy now?" Enjolras could only stare back, as his father stepped closer like a dangerous animal approaching it's victim, "Ofcourse stupid piece of shit like you can scare anybody away" "I'm sorry" he had no idea what he was apologising for but it was clearly the wrong thing to say. Father launched forward grabbing Enjolras hair before throwing him on his bed, "Dad please..." Enjolras stared with shock as his father unbuckled his belt. This wouldn't have been the first time his father was using a belt on him as a mean of punishment. His mother usually didn't object to what his father did to him as punishment but her existence was some sort of comfort to Enjolras. One time when he had accidentally broke an expensive vase, his father had locked him in the small backroom for three days after whipping him. His mother hadn't protested but every now and then she would bring him food or water. He knew she was doing this without his father's knowledge and although she kept saying that he had earned his punishment he knew she didn't like to see him in pain. Now she wasn't here, and there was an even bigger problem. He had no idea what he was being punished for an ,so as his father took off his teeshirt and roughly turned him around so that he was lying face down on the bed all he could do was to ask why he was being punished through his tears. After five blows he just buried his head in the mattress and gave up the sobs he had tried to suppress. After 25 blow his father stopped, breathing heavily like he had ran a mile, he leaned to stroke Enjolras back roughly with one hand, which made Enjolras whimper in pain, "I always knew you would ruin my life" Enjolras brought his head up and even through his watery eyes he could see the tears on his fathers face before the man turned around and stormed out of the room, locking the door behind him. Things just kept getting worse after that. Enjolras could never forgive himself for his mother' departure even though he never knew what he had done to drive her away. Father always told him he had scared his mother away with his odd behaviour and disobedience. He felt guilty every time he saw father dining alone, every time he saw the man seating on the coach in front of their giant TV drinking. And that was another problem, father had always been a heavy drinker but his wife's abandonment took that habit to a whole new level. He spent less and less time with his son at home, coming home drunk and angry spending his time at home either working or shouting on Enjolras. Enjolras couldn't help but feel that his father hated him at these moments, but whenever the "punishments" went too far his father would try to sooth him afterwards and at those moments Enjolras felt almost loved. Sometimes he felt pathetic but he couldn't help loving it when his father would gather him in his arms, and tuck him in bed. That was the closest thing to love Enjolras ever saw from his father. These touches might have helped with the physical pain but the hurtful words his father said never went away. All the rants about how his mother has left because of him, how she never became herself after Enjolras was born, how she hated the fact that she had a son instead of a daughter never left Enjolras alone. He secretly hoped that one day his mother would come back and fix every thing, or at least turn things back to the way the were before, but days faded into months and years and mother never came back. Enjolras could see his father suffering, which was weird considering how he and mother had never been that close, but then Enjolras thought that might have been because of him, maybe things had been different before he came into the picture. Sometimes Enjolras though the only thing he could feel was guilt. He could never be the boy his father wanted. He was not good in sports, he was bullied in school(for being a rich man's son), he was failing at school because he usually felt like he could never concentrate on what was going on. His father resented him for what had happened and each failure would send into one of his rages which left Enjolras unable to move without wincing for days. Something about his father anger was refreshing though. Those times when he was angry were the only times his focus was truly on his son. Other times he would just ignore him. He had made it clear to Enjolras that he wanted him out of his way,literally. He had made it clear that he expected Enjolras to do the domestic chords that included cooking. Enjolras was not allowed to sit with his father on the table. He was allowed to stay in the house but not the comfortable spacious room he once occupied but in the shabby backroom. Sometimes he thought about the past and wondered how easily he had fit in the new conditions. As time passed however his father anger subsided into something more calculating. He would delicately hurt Enjolras the way he knew hurt him most. He would taunt him mercilessly in front of others for his "short coming" not in the angry way he used to say these before but in a detached way which left Enjolras empty . He drank less frequently and spent more time working. Enjolras was vaguely informed of the flourishing business of his father and soon there were parties and gatherings with his father's suit and tie friends. Not the kind of fun parties where people dans and lose themselves but formal ones where everybody sat around the table chatting about politics and business while drinking expensive Champaign. At first Enjolras was allowed to attend these meetings. His father even took it upon himself to buy him a new outfit which made him look more like a CEO's son. He was warned not to talk and sit still through these night. And that he did. Even when his father would tell all his guests what a disappointment he was, how he had no talent at all but his good looks and the "self-centredness of a lad which hasn't learned the price he has to pay for comfort in his life" he sat quiet. Dropping his gaze on the floor not bearing to see the look of pity in these stranger's eyes. Sometimes these strangers would bring their kids to these parties and whenever they started praising their kids(something many parents seem to do to Enjolras' surprise and discomfort) his father felt the need to compare Enjolras negatively to these kids. Demonstrating how little Enjolras had. Enjolras knew he was probably right. He was trouble, he couldn't handle pressure and he seemed to lack any kind of talent when it came to the field of "real science". But none of these made the humiliation easier to bear. There was one thing he owed to these meetings though. It was during one of these torturous hours that he was to met a boy which became closer and dearer than a brother to him, Tristan Combeferre.


	2. Chapter 2

Some classic music, glasses full of Champaign, servants walking in between the guests silently, the part was boring as ever. The guests who were mostly father's clients and colleagues were chatting about business matters that Enjolras tried to follow and failed. Not the he was interested even the slightest bit in the conversation but there was nothing else to do. 

 

He was not the only youngster in the party. Two boys and a girl were sitting at the end of the table chatting not so quietly, laughing at times and(to Enjolras great annoyance) stealing glances at him from time to time. They were playing with what seemed to be a smart phone and every five minuets one of them would begin whispering angrily and trying to snatch the phone from the other's hand which resulted in a friendly fight and some giggles. 

 

Enjolras didn't realise he was staring at the trio until he felt a tap on his shoulder, turning around to find his neighbour smiling at him.

 

She was a good looking woman who seemed to be in her early forties with curly brown hair and beautiful expressive brown eyes. There was softness in her eyes and smile which gave her a very "motherly" look. 

"Why don't you go sit with them?"

"I'm... I'm fine"

"Didn't say you're not." Her smile grew "You see the one wearing glasses?" She pointed toward the kid" That's my son I'm sure he would be glad to play with you"

Looking at the boy he could see the resemblance. The boy had his mother's eyes and hair and the general calmness of his face(which remained unperturbed by the way the other boy was tugging furiously at the phone in his hands) also resembled his mother.

 

Enjolras was feeling awkward. On one hand he hated the idea of being a stranger in group of friends only to be tolerated politely, on the other hand he was shamefully curious to see what they were doing with the phone so excitedly.

 

The lovely woman beside him apparently saw the mixture of curiosity and hesitance on his face because she took hold of his hand before saying,  
"Let me introduce you"and before he could protest she was leading him towards the still engaged teens.

 

"Kids, this is Julian, Mr. Enjolras' son. Julian this is my son Tristan, Ryan and Eponine."

 

From the close distance he could see that Tristan was even more like his mother. He gave Enjolras a warm smile which immediately put him at ease. Ryan was a sturdy young boy with curly black hair and laughing eyes which gave him a certain pleasantly mischievous look. The girl seemed younger, she had big brown eyes and straight brown hair which was gathered at the back of her head in a pony. Although she seemed younger than all of the, she managed to give Enjolras a scrutinising look that made him want to turn around and go back to the safety of his seat.

 

To his horror he realised Tristan's mother had seen the introduction enough and had gone back to her seat, leaving him alone with three extremely curious looking teens.

 

"So... You're Philipe Enjolras' son." Eponine said

"...yeah" he knew by experience he had gained from public schools that being a rich kid(or in his case a rich man's kid) could be dangerous.

"Well Julian we where playing le ninja would you like to play?" Tristan broke the uneasy silence, taking the phone from a glaring Eponine(yes definitely not some one to mess with) and offering it to Enjolras.

 

" well maybe before that he should see a professional play" Ryan said, snatching the phone from Tristan, nudging a still glaring eponin to open some space for Enjolras to sit.

 

Tristan let out an exasperated huff before saying,  
"You're such a baby Courf" Courf?

"I'm being practical"

" you're being a giant dick"

"Guys, guys, I think our host has problem with swearing." Said Eponine, smirking and to Enjolras horror he realised he was blushing,

"Umm... No" He looked desperately looked at the three kids who seemed to be ready to burst out laughing at any second now,

"No... I'm fine with dick."  
That was it. The three of them burst out laughing so loud that many of the grown ups turned around and looked at them quizzically.

 

Enjolras was sure his face's blood vessels were about to burst at any given seconds, but he couldn't help joining in laughing about how awkward the whole situation was. The fact that Ryan(Courf?) had slung an arm around him while laughing made him much more at ease.

But the noises had attracted too many attentions,

"Mr. Enjolras, you have a lovely son. I'm sure he would grow to become a really handsome man" said a woman who was sitting beside father ,flirtatiously.

Enjolras winced. He was sitting right there why were they talking about him like he wasn't and besides he was thirteen. He didn't enjoy being called pretty any more. 

 

"He would be handsome." Courf turned around to wink at him" but I'm afraid he wont be anything but that." Said father ,sipping on his wine, so naturally like there was no way he could be wrong.

Enjolras smile fell. The party went silent as he dropped his gaze to the floor not bearing to look at anyone.

" I think you're wrong, I think he is very kind, sweet kid, a little shy but once the ice breaks warm and lovely." Tristan's mother broke the silence" just like his mother."

Wrong, WRONG, the wrong thing to say. Enjolras head shoot up. Father was gaping at the woman who had so much to apologies for.

 

"Mrs. Combeffere, Fantine was a mentally ill woman. Julian sure resembles her but I fail to see that as a positive thing." Said father with a stony expression.

 

The man who was sitting beside the woman(probably Tristan's father) was holding her hand as if to stop her from striking father.

 

"That hardly seems faire Philip" said the man with a surprising booming voice" Fantine did have issues but she's fine now, especially after Cosette 's birth..."

 

Enjolras felt like the ground was swept from underneath his feet. Who were these people who knew so much about his mother? Who the hell was Cosette?

But fathers gaze made him forget all these questions at once. He was looking straight at Enjolras, his pupils blown ,his eyelids twitching, his hands fisted, terror filled the place of curiosity as Enjolras hoped to God that the guests would never leave.

"Mr. Combeferre with all due respect I don't want to discuss my family matters here" and that was that.

 

As hours passed by Enjolras got more and more desperate. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, he felt like he was going to have a panic attack at any moment. He kept tapping his fingers on his knees and steeling glances at Mrs. Combeffere who was immersed in a conversation with a plump curly haired woman Enjolras figured was Courf's mother, Mrs. Courfeyrac.

 

Courf and Eponine had at some point gone back to playing but Tristan had sat by Enjolras, trying to get him to talk. He held his hand to stop the nervous tapping and tried relentlessly to distract him from whatever though which was causing him such great anxiety.

At first, Enjolras was annoyed trying to get rid if this intruder in order to (over)analyse what had been said in peace, but eventually, when freaking out became too much, he gave up. Resting back in his chair he started a conversation with Tristan and to his amazement he began to feel calmer and calmer by each passing moment. There was something warm and reassuring about Tristan's ever present smile and steady gaze that magically brought his hear rate down.

 

They started talking about educational system and neglect for LGBT rights in public schools and soon Enjolras was passionately talking in a way which one of his female classmates had once said, was mesmerising. At some point Courf and Eponine abandoned the game in favour of engaging in the heated debate and in the end they both( on Eponine's part reluctantly) admitted that Enjolras was right.

 

As the end of the night neared and Enjolras was beginning to panic again, Tristan suddenly jumped and turned to say excitedly,  
"Hey why don't you come to Eponine's tomorrow?"

 

" yeah right!" Courf jumped up from his seat" It would be so much fun and we are going to have movie marathons. You would love it"

"I'm not sure my father would let me..." Enjolras felt bad about how deflated they both seemed at once.

 

"And besides I haven't invited him" interjected a glaring Eponine.  
"Come on don't be an ass" said courf dismissively.

Eponine turned and looked at Enjolras who was trying to hide his blush behind his curls before smirking,  
"Since you blush so cutely I would have to invite you."

"I'm not..." But he shut his mouth before saying anything, attempting to block out a snickering Courf "Besides that doesn't change the fact that my father wont let me come"

 

"Well...my father happens to be a valuable client of you father so... Maybe you should give it a try" Eponine said.

"I don't know" Enjolras said hesitantly, but upon catching a glimpse of the poppy dog face Tristan and Ryan were making he relented" ok I'll try"

"YES"

"... But I'm not promising anything"

"Fine"


End file.
